Ichigo's Torment
by labonsoirfemme
Summary: Twelve Tortures for Ichigo, from guilt trips to whips and spikes! Each chapter stands alone so the rating does not apply to every chapter. Pairing: IchigoRukia
1. Guilt Trip

**Title:** Guilt Trip

**Author:** Ancha289

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Rukia is searching

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach or any of its characters. Kubo Tite is an evil genius, and I bow down to him.

**Authoress's Notes:** This was written for day one of the 12 Tortures Challenge here. The challenge is simple: For each day, a torture prompt (guilt trip, tongue lashing, etc) is issued, and each artist or author must have their work up by midnight of that day. The last challenge is the day of Ichigo's birthday. This means that there will be twelve chapters in this complete work.

Thanks to Overtoned on livejournal for the beta.

**Pairings: **IchiRuki if you squint

**Torture:** Guilt Trip

**----**

"Ichigo?"

He swiveled around in his chair to stare at Rukia's feet where they jutted from underneath his bed. "What?"

"Have you seen my snow globe?" Her muffled voice grew clearer as she shimmied backwards and into the open room. "I can't find it."

"Nope." He turned back to his homework and stared at the blank sheet of paper before him. Behind him, Rukia continued to toss his things around his room. Unable to concentrate with the chaos unfolding behind him, Ichigo fiddled with his pencil and stared at the wall above his desk.

"Ugh, it's dusty in here," Rukia muttered, shoving the closet door back. "You know, the one with the bunnies inside that Yuzu and Karin gave—"

"I _know_ which one you're talking about."

"Have you seen it?" She asked again, facing him and fiddling with the edge of his sweater. Watching her peer at him with wide eyes and a tiny body that disappeared inside his clothes, Ichigo couldn't bring himself to lie to her anymore.

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Great," she chirruped. "Where is it? I've looked all in the girls' room but I can't—"

"I broke it." Silence hung in the air, and he shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "I was dusting and it just..." He trailed off and mimed the snow globe falling from its self and exploding on the floor.

The dark haired girl's confused gaze morphed slowly into her Glare of Death. "You are the child prodigy of Soul Society and you can't catch a falling snow globe?"

"It's not like I did it on purpose," Ichigo burst out, but she muttered something intelligible and left the room, slamming the door in his face. "Fuck," he whispered, dropping back into his chair. How in the hell was he going to make _that_ up to her?


	2. Mocking

**Title:** Mocking

**Author:** Ancha289

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach. It is the work of Kubo Tite and I only take his characters out to play with.

**Authoress's Notes:** Written for the 12 Tortures Theme here. Warnings for language and sexual-ish themes.

Thanks to Overtoned for the beta.

**Pairings: **Ichigo-->Rukia

**Torture: **Tongue Lashing

**----**

Sometimes, Ichigo thought that his Hollow was worse than Rukia. His Hollow knew all of his secrets, all of his desires, all of his fears and above all, his Hollow knew just what to say to really piss him off.

Rukia, though, was a whole different type of torture. She flirted with him in public, just to make him blush and worry about his reputation. In her eyes, Ichigo needed no privacy, so she spent every waking second in his room, regardless of his activities. Above all, when had she become...attractive?

_"She hasn't changed, my lord,"_ the Hollow mocked him. _"You're just not a little boy anymore. You should show her just how much you've grown. Or maybe...you don't know how to...well. You know."_

Ichigo refused to respond. Rukia rolled over on his bed, holding her novel over her face. Her skirt twisted higher on her thighs, and Ichigo swallowed and returned his attention to his homework.

_"Indulge once in a while, King. The little ice princess needs a little warming up."_

"Ichigo?" Rukia half-questioned, half-murmured, dropping her book off the side of the bed. "Get me a blanket."

"Go back to your own room and get into your own bed," Ichigo replied, focusing on English and refusing to even glance at the young woman sprawled invitingly across his bed. "Don't pass out on mine."

She mewed and shifted again, saying something about how it was too far for her to move, and _holyshitwerethoseherpantiesfucktheywere_. He shot out of his chair and into the hallway, digging desperately in the linen closet for a blanket, any damn blanket he could find. Emerging victorious with a fleece blanket in his fist, he walked back into the room, steeling himself against the vision of pink and white flowers peeking out from the hem of her skirt. Rukia was already dozing, curled loosely on her side and half her face buried deep into his pillow.

He covered her form with the blanket, tucking her dangling arms beneath the fabric. A tendril of hair was caught between her lips. Ichigo carefully slid it behind her ear, his fingertips lingering on her dark locks. With a sharp exhalation, he left the bed and gathered up his homework, intent on finishing his essay in the kitchen.

_"I swear, you're hopeless,"_ the Hollow sighed.


	3. Gold Fish

**Title:** Gold Fish

**Author: **Ancha289

**Rating:** T

**Summary: **Rukia only has one request.

**Disclaimer:** Only Kubo Tite owns Bleach. He enjoys taunting us with this fact.

**Authoress's Notes:** Written for the 12 Tortures challenge here. Thank you to Overtoned and Sodanielle for the betas! You two rock!

**Pairings:** IchiRuki

**----**

"I want to go _too_," Rukia said, pushing back her covers.

Isshin shook his head and pushed her back into the bed. "No, no, no! Daddy's precious daughter must stay here and focus on getting well," he cried, firmly tucking the blankets around Rukia's body and effectively pinioning her arms to her sides.

Rukia glowered at Ichigo from her cocoon of cotton and wool as Isshin darted from the room, chasing after Yuzu to fix her poorly-fastened jacket. "This is all _your_ fault," she muttered darkly

"_My_ fault?" Ichigo asked incredulously.

"_Obviously_," she glowered from him from her cocoon of cotton and wool "_You_ were the one who got sick in the first place. How _dare_ you pass your human illness onto me?" She ended her rant with a round of harsh coughing.

"Bitch at Urahara; he's the one that didn't pump your gigai full of antibodies," he replied, rubbing his cheek in annoyance.

"Antibodies?" A gleam of curiosity flickered across her tired face. "Can I eat them and get better? Or do you drink them? Do they come in a juice box?"

Ichigo pushed off of the door frame and adjusted his scarf. "Of course not, dumbass. I'll have Dad explain it to you later. I don't have time right now. We won't be long at the festival. After Yuzu and Karin win their goldfish, we'll probably come home."

"You'd better bring me one, Ichigo," she demanded hoarsely, futilely wriggling her arms. Isshin was a master at subduing patients though, and his third daughter wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

"Yeah, right," he laughed, waving goodbye to the fuming woman trapped in her bed. "You'd kill it within two hours."

Her raspy protests followed him down the stairs, but faded away as his family spilled into the festive and crowded streets of Karakura town.

----

Rukia awoke to the sound of Karin rebuffing an Embrace of Celebratory Love from Isshin. Her head was _throbbing_, and Isshin's forlorn moaning to Masaki's poster was not helping _at all_. Groaning, she rolled over and cursed as her change in position increased the pressure in her sinuses.

"Hey."

She cracked open one eye and saw Ichigo standing in the doorway, a white plastic bag clutched in his hand. "What?" she croaked, closing her eyes again and burrowing further down into the covers.

Something soft hit her head. Rukia picked up the offending object: it was a stuffed bunny. She pouted childishly. "I wanted a _gold fish_, Ichigo."

"I _won_ that for you," he huffed. "Half the fish were dead anyway and Karin didn't even get one. At least _that_ won't die on you." Crossing his arms, he watched her stroke the plush's fur.

"It _is _pretty," she admitted, and then asked with a small smile, "Ichigo?"

"Hm?" She looked so innocent and charming, even with mussed hair and glazed eyes and a red nose, and Ichigo allowed his typical frown to crack slightly and a small quirk of his lips to slip through.

"Get me some water."

Muttering resentfully under his breath, Ichigo grabbed the empty glass from her bedside table and left the room. Back in her bed, Rukia smiled wider, wrapping her arm around the bunny and pulling it under the covers with her.


	4. Splash

**Title:** Splash

**Author:** Ancha289

**Rating:** K

**Disclaimer:** Kubo Tite owns everything. I swear.

**Authoress's Notes:** This torture is "Water," and was written for 12 Tortures. Unfortunately, it's unbeta-ed due to the fact that I have to catch a flight in about two hours.

**Pairings:** IchiRuki

**----**

Sighing in defeat, Ichigo closed his eyes as another wave of water hit him straight in the face. The water sloughed off his shirt, already soaked from earlier attacks, and created small puddles on the floor of the bathroom. He wiped the water from his eyes and forced himself not to glower at the toddler splashing in the bathwater.

"Hoshi, do you splash Mommy?" Ichigo asked, reaching for the shampoo.

The boy smiled wickedly. "No, no no!" He pattered his chubby fists against the surface with each word. "Only Daddy!"

"Of course," Ichigo muttered under his breath, gently rubbing the suds through his son's short, dark locks. "Close your eyes." Hoshi squeezed his eyes shut as Ichigo poured cupfuls of water over his head.

Later that night, after Hoshi was tucked into bed and Ichigo had changed into clean clothes, the couple stood in front of the wide mirror of their own bathroom. "You've infiltrated his mind and turned him against me," Ichigo accused Rukia. She rolled her eyes and spit out her toothpaste.

"It's natural for son's to be more attached to their mothers," she explained as though it was obvious. "I'm sure he will grow out of this phase soon." Ichigo gave her a doubtful look and she kissed his cheek in reassurance. Their conversation was interrupted by a hungry cry from their room.

"I'll go," Ichigo offered, already halfway across the bedroom floor. He picked up the infant and cradled her head against his shoulder. Immediately, the baby quieted and fisted his shirt in her hand.

"How do you do that?" Rukia asked, crossing her arms and watching her daughter slip back into a light doze. "She never wants me to hold her."

He smirked, glad he had one-upped Rukia _somewhere_. "It's natural for daughters to be more attached to their fathers."

----

Leave some love!


	5. The Rack

**Torture: **The Rack

**Authoress's Notes:** I am _so sorry_ that this is coming so late. Obviously, I was not able to keep my original promise of one story per day; this nasty little bugger called Real Life keeps getting in the way. Further, I don't know when the next part will be out because I am starting college on August 18 and have several things to take care of before then, including reading an entire textbook.

The 12 Days of Ichigo Torture has already passed, but I figured it would be unfair to leave this work unfinished. Therefore, I am going to continue, but appreciate your patience. A lot of people have asked me to make these pieces longer, but I hope that you all come to appreciate the brevity of these little ficlets. Later pieces may be longer, but for most of these I am trying to create a vignette, a "snapshot" if you will of Ichigo's reactions to each of his tortures.

**Disclaimer:** I do not claim to own Bleach or any of its affiliates; that honor goes to Kubo Tite and any of his partners. I just use them for recreational purposes and receive no monetary benefit from my works.

**Chapter Rating: **T

**Warnings: **Language.

**----**

He bluffs straight into the face of Kuchiki Byakuya. He assures Rukia's brother that, yes, of course he has reached bankai. In reality, Yoruichi had only outlined the process of achieving his final release as she and Ichigo shunpo'd toward the Soukyouku. She advised him to avoid even attempting bankai, and instead focus on grabbing Rukia and escaping as fast as possible.

Shit. Like that had worked. Now, he pushes himself off the ground and smirks at Byakuya's half-incredulous, half-doubtful face. How hard could it really be? Especially with his mentors always telling him to hold his spirit down, _for fuck's sake, Ichigo._

He lets his power bubble up from his chest and out through his skin, and it feels _nice_, like he's exhaling the purest oxygen. Byakuya's face remains impassive, even as Ichigo's power visibly swirls about his body.

_Yesyesyes,_ he thinks, swinging Zangetsu behind him. Goosebumps prickle his skin as he continues to force his power up, up, up, until his chest constricts and he knows he has hit the wall or dam that Yoruichi had talked about. _No matter,_ Ichigo muses, shoving the weight of his power against the blockage. Failure never enters his mind; inklings of doubt will get him nowhere. He feels Zangetsu become fidgety in the back of his mind, and Ichigo continues to shove at the hairline cracks he _knows_ are spider webbing across the lid of his power.

And when it shatters and his power overflows into brand new territory, Ichigo feels like laughing or crying or both because it feels _so good_, but instead he grips Zangetsu tighter and shouts "bankai!" as the zanpakutou shudders changes in his fist.

Then his throat closes up and he could care less what Byakuya is saying about all that honor bullshit because he _really _feels like crying now. The sudden euphoria of achieving bankai gives way to immense pain; his body is trying to collapse in on itself, it _is _his body right? _Nonono,_ it's all his power trying to pull itself into a tiny little ball or something but his power is _fucking attached_ to his bones and muscles and skin and everything else.

Ichigo clenches his jaw against the sickening sensation of his bones cracking under the weight of his own power. A memory from his elementary school days springs forth, a project on Medieval torture devices. _Is this what a rack feels like?_ he wonders.

_A rack pulls you apart, King,_ Shirosaki reminds him snidely. Ichigo attempts to shove him to the back of his mind, but his hollow cackles and evades him.

Byakuya sends his own bankai at Ichigo and adrenaline rushes through his veins. He springs forward and is amazed at how slow the petals move now; they go right past him as though Byakuya can't even see—

_Oh._

So _this_ is bankai.

----

End

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far!


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